Sakura's Sunshine
by adoranymph
Summary: Sakura Matou was a blossom too long shut up in the dark. Though she had grown to accept that, she longed for sunshine. Then, one day, it came back to her, when she saw her sadness reflected in the eyes of another boy. A side-story/companion fic/prequel fic to "Blood of the Lamb", as it involves Fate characters from a different POV, but of course precedes HF route. Sakura/Shirou.
1. The Day She Found Kindness Again

**Chapter One**

 **The Day She Found Kindness Again**

The last she saw of him was his hand, constricted in the shape of a claw, just before it sank below with the rest of him, to be devoured along with the rest of him by Grandfather's crest worms.

In the end, a foolish man for disobeying Grandfather.

No longer able to cry, or feel anything but a gaping acceptance of the dark and grim world around her, little Sakura abandoned the name of Tohsaka once and for all, and turned away from the corpse of her "uncle" Kariya below in the worm pit, carrying the name of Matou in her wrung out and wasted heart, even as it was still so small and fragile.

She shut the door behind her, only to be greeted by Grandfather Zouken. Even as he hobbled with a cane, somehow he commanded a frightening presence that only an idiot wouldn't fear.

"So, is that the end of him, Sakura?" croaked the old man, his lips curling over his yellowing teeth.

Sakura nodded emptily.

Zouken Matou gave a low, emphysemic chuckle. "At last, he has earned his reward. And you, you've learned a valuable lesson, have you not, Sakura?"

"I have, Grandfather," said Sakura obediently. "I will never disobey you."

"Very good, little lamb." Zouken chuckled again, only to be interrupted by the sound of Byakuya Matou crying out again.

"Ah, now. It seems the whines of your father have yet to be quelled." Zouken continued his hobble along the corridor, towards Byakuya's room, where he'd been laid up for a while now, days after an intruder had broken in and shot him in the hand and leg with a handgun.

"My father?" Sakura cocked her head sideways.

Zouken stopped and peered over his hunched, bony shoulder at her. "Yes, Sakura. Your father. Byakuya is your father. Remember?"

"Yes, Grandfather."

"And who are your siblings?"

"I only have one, Grandfather. My brother, Shinji."

The thought of sister…of Rin…didn't even come to mind this time. Nor did that of….

 _Father…and Mother…._

 _"_ _Think of them as if they'd never existed, little lamb," Zouken told her, patting her head with his clammy hand._

 _"_ _As if they'd never existed?" Sakura asked, blinking up at him like a nervous fawn._

 _"_ _That's the way…."_

As Zouken hobbled off down the hall, Sakura fell into a dark emptiness, staring at the carpet, but not really seeing it. Instead she saw the worms below, and Uncle Kariya's disfigured face…that lost look in his eye…just the one, since the other had pretty much been eaten from within….

He had done something wrong. And now he was dead.

She should feel something, something outrageous perhaps. Sad, maybe? She wasn't sure. Really, she was too tired to feel much of anything. She'd felt that way after spending days on end in the worm pit, to the point that time lost all meaning.

She had this sense that she had been caught in a maelstrom of her own screaming, and then somehow switched something off inside her to make the screams stop.

And whatever switch she'd pulled, she couldn't remember what it was, or how to switch it on again. Or maybe she shouldn't even care.

Walking as the empty shell of a girl that she was, she willed her legs to move after they grew stiff and shuffled off to her little bedroom. There she would drift through another empty night's sleep, dreaming of nothing.

No. Not even the worms haunted her dreams anymore.

 **Five Years Later**

" _Nii-san_?"

Shinji Matou glared at the girl who they both knew deep down wasn't really his little sister, a fact which both of them deep down resented. Moreover, it was no secret to both of them that Shinji resented that this girl had been named the Matou heir over him, when she wasn't even of Matou blood. Now, with his father Byakuya dead, it seemed that Shinji felt free to do as he wished as far as venting his frustrations out on her.

Sakura accepted that too, with a hardened stoicism she'd developed over years of resenting not only what Zouken Matou—her "grandfather"—had done to her, but what her true father, Tokiomi Tohsaka had done, abandoning her, and how her dear sister…Rin…had never come for her. She accepted all of it, feeling that it won her some kind of power that only she would be able to wield, the power of innocent patience, even in the face of all those dark nights when Shinji would slip into her room and take what he wanted from her, knowing she would offer no resistance. And though that would satisfy him for a while, somehow some part of Sakura would be grimly satisfied in return that her lack of resistance served to irritate him all the more.

And her insistent kindness, for that matter.

"What do you want, Sakura?" he demanded grouchily, his hand already on the polished wood of the heavy double doors that opened out of the creeper-covered, once-grand mansion of the Matous. "I'm late."

"You forgot this." Sakura Matou handed him the lovingly wrapped up _bento_ box containing the meal she'd cooked for him last night and then stored in the freezer so it would thaw out in time for lunch. "I made it for you."

Shinji scoffed and shoved it away. "I told you, Sakura, I eat in the cafeteria." After a pause, he added with a contemptuous sniff, "Idiot."

Though Sakura's fingers tightened around the knot of the cloth wrapped around the _bento_ box, she didn't cry. She hadn't cried for years now.

She did however experience a tight and painful constriction in her heart, and thinking about that pleasant dream she would sometimes have of a dark-haired man who smiled kindly at her and presented her with a gift of a lovely beaded bracelet he'd bought for her in a foreign country got her through it the way it always did, though she couldn't begin to figure out why. It was all a clouded haze, and sometimes that dream would turn into a nightmare where that man's hair turned white and his still body sank beneath a sea of crestworms.

Shaking her head, she turned away from the door to gather up her own things for school, with the intention of finding another means of getting Shinji's lunch to him. As she tried working on this problem, she put the final touch on her outfit…the ribbon that Rin had given to her all those years ago, to which she still clung, despite everything. At the very least, it kept the bangs of her purple hair out of her face.

 _"_ _If you hide your face behind that fringe all the time, no one can see how cute you are!"_ Rin's voice echoed across her memory of her giving her the ribbon. _"And then you'll just be sad all the time, and think no one likes you!"_ And then she'd hugged her, her own hair tied up in those little twin tails she still wore.

Sakura's fingers quaked only for a second as she tied off the ribbon now, but she quelled them with her usual efforts, and even managed a kind of smile as she flicked the rest of her hair out of her face and admired the effect in the mirror.

Walking on her own on such a fine spring morning, Sakura still managed to find solace in these brief moments she had to herself, free of anyone expressing their contempt for her, either in an insect-like look of empty greed, or in pinning her down and forcing himself on her. At school, of course it was no better, as the other girls tended to avoid her, and none of the boys seemed to want anything to do with her either, whispering things like, "Her eyes look so weak…so pathetic…."

At least when she was alone like this, she could imagine she lived someone else's life, and things didn't feel quite so bad. She could pretend she was a normal, happy girl, who had the love of a mother and father in her life, who hadn't a care in the world, beyond studying for tests and working up the courage to confess her feelings to a boy she really liked.

Actually, now that she thought about it, she didn't really feel that way about any of the boys at her school. She supposed that that was for the best, since they didn't seem to care for her, and loving one of them would only cause her more pain. And she'd had enough of that already. Even when she worked to endure such things, the pain was still there, regardless.

Now that she was getting closer to her school however, her mind went back to working out a way to get this lunch to Shinji. She'd slaved over it the night before, little as he deserved it… _the least he could do was eat the damn thing._

Then she became aware of how much her hands hurt, and she realized she was clutching the cloth ties on the _bento_ box so tightly that every muscle was strained, every bone and joint grinding painfully against each other. Any tighter and her fingernails might draw blood from her palms. And then she felt flustered and embarrassed, even though no one around her noticed, even though the countless other students passed her by, flowing around her like indifferent streams of water.

"Oh my," she whimpered under her breath, and, panicking, she ducked off of the sidewalk and hid behind a beautifully blossoming cherry tree, catching her breath as though she'd been running, her heart racing. Even so, she trembled all over, and she was actually on the edge of crying, of all things. She hadn't felt that in what felt like forever.

Not since….

Why was she having such dark thoughts like this? She knew that she was a good person, or at least, she had to be. What other choice did she have, if she wanted to survive? Somehow she felt that if she gave into dark impulses born of unhappiness, she might do something horrible, and she knew… _knew_ …she would feel horrible about it.

Because she was good.

Wasn't she?

She curled her toes inside her school shoes, suddenly trying not to think about that myth about how every _sakura_ tree had a dead body buried underneath….

And then everything inside her went limp, and the _bento_ box and her schoolbag slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground.

Sakura's eyes flew open to see she'd lost hold of them, the lunch in particular, and clasped her hands to her face. "Oh no!" She dropped to the ground and reached for the _bento_ box first, but someone else picked up her schoolbag.

"Here, let me help you."

It was a boy's voice. Sakura looked up and saw the figure of a boy who looked a year older than her, the sun shining behind him, his own schoolbag slung over his shoulder.

He smiled at her…kindly…warm like the sun behind him that outlined his red hair like the coronae she'd seen in old mage paintings…and if she squinted…she could make out his golden-brown eyes, so eager.

It was...the boy she'd seen the other day...doing high-jumps like an idiot until the sunset...so persistent...and admirably so...

"Um…thank you," she said, bowing her head, not only out of appreciation, but also out of a sudden flurry of nerves. Quickly she got to her feet and brushed dirt off of her school skirt, finally forcing herself to look this boy in the eye again when he handed her schoolbag to her.

"It's no problem," said the boy, holding up a hand. "Hey, you're Shinji's little sister, aren't you? Sakura, right?"

"I—how did you know?" Sakura asked, the flurry of nerves growing intense in the pit of her stomach.

The boy pointed to his temple. "Your hair. And the ribbon. They're just like Shinji said." He went on smiling, tucking his free hand back in the pocket of his school trousers, though Sakura couldn't help thinking that there was just a touch of sadness to his smile, and then she couldn't help her timid heart going out to him…just a little.

"Well, thank you, again, um…."

"Emiya. Emiya Shirou."

"Yeah. Um, thank you…Emiya-sempai."

"You're welcome." He pointed to the _bento_ box. "Was that for Shinji?"

"Yeah, he um…forgot it," Sakura lied lamely. "What made you…?"

"Just a guess," said Emiya with a shrug. "If he forgot it, I can take it to him for you, if you want."

"Oh, no, you've done enough already!" Sakura insisted, shaking her head vigorously.

But Emiya wouldn't hear of it. "Nonsense. It's no trouble. After all, you have to get to your own class, right? Don't wanna be late!"

Before Sakura knew it, Emiya was already gently taking the _bento_ box from her. Their hands brushed, just for a moment, but from that touch, Sakura felt a pleasant warmth she hadn't felt in so very long. Not since that time when she'd really had a family, and knew of a man who loved her quite as if she were his own daughter.

 _Uncle…Kariya…._

When the contact ended, she felt something inside her still reaching out, but she kept it hidden. She was good at that by now.

"Thank you…sempai," she murmured, brushing back her hair behind her ear with the hand unburdened of the _bento_ box.

"Not at all." Emiya smiled a little more brightly. "Well, see you around." And off he went, with Sakura watching his retreating back.

But then he stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her face turning bright red, redder than the stop light at the railroad crossing.

He just smiled and waved though, looking genuinely glad of the encounter. Then he turned back towards the school and went on walking up the hill lined with cherry blossom trees.

And Sakura's heart beat to a brand new rhythm, as of something brought back to life…the _sakura_ blossom opening up after so long spent locked away in the frozen depths of winter.


	2. The Day She Gave Kindness Back

**Chapter Two**

 **The Day She Gave Kindness Back**

 **Four Years Later**

For a time since then, Sakura Matou observed Shirou Emiya from afar, speaking to him occasionally when he hung around her brother. And, she had to admit, she felt a little closer to her brother for it. It made her happy somehow. Maybe because she saw something of a pleasant change in Shinji because of their friendship. Well, maybe not entirely pleasant, but…he smiled more…and he stopped slipping into her room to take advantage of her deep in the night.

Shirou himself was already quite pleasant, leagues above her brother. There was something about his presence with her and Shinji that made her feel better about everything around her. Like things weren't all that bad in the end, because a boy like him lived in her world now.

"You really like Emiya, don't you Sakura?" Shinji asked her one night as the two of them ate alone at the dinner table, Grandfather Zouken absent as usual.

Sakura looked up at her brother from her plate. The flames from the lit candles created shadows that danced across his face, as he wore a smile that was unreadable, closed.

"I do," she finally admitted. "He's nice."

"Yeah, he _is_ pretty nice, isn't he?" Shinji went back to his own plate, still behaving cryptically. After all this time, this softer tone, while it was an improvement, made Sakura ever on the alert for the return of the young man who would smack her or slide into bed next to her and force himself on her just to do away with his own demonic frustrations.

So she danced between being relaxed and being on edge anymore. The only time she didn't have to dance between these two things and outright relax was when Shirou was around them.

Then Shinji said, after thoughtfully chewing a bite of chicken and swallowing: "Hey! I've got an idea." His grin widened. "Why don't you come by the archery _dojo_ tomorrow morning before school? Apart from myself, Emiya's pretty damn good. And it helps that he's always willing to mend my bowstrings and such. In fact, maybe you'd like to see if you wanted to join archery yourself? The club's advisor is something of a relative of Emiya's, Fujimura-sensei."

"The English teacher?"

"Yeah, her. She's like his…big sister or something. He even calls her 'Fuji-nee'."

"Um…okay but…are you sure that would be allowed?"

Shinji waved a hand. "Come on now, Sakura. As long as you say you're with me and Emiya, Fujimura-sensei won't mind."

"Well…all right then." Sakura even managed a smile, to which Shinji—who had never even so much as done something like pat her head—nodded with a rare expression of contented satisfaction.

The following morning Sakura and Shinji walked together to school for the first time, and Sakura wanted to believe more than ever that from now on things were truly going to be different between her and her brother. Something about him felt so much calmer, more receptive to the promising late-winter-early-spring breeze, the pale gold of the rising dawn, and the bright song of the first of the bush warblers in the _sakura_ trees.

Still, she felt this stiffness inside her, insurmountable in that she could think of nothing to say after what had already passed between them as siblings of the Matou. Ever since Shinji had found out about the crest worms Grandfather Zouken had been using on her.

Until Shinji said something that she had perhaps been waiting for since that very dark night as a small child when she came up from the worm pit to tell Grandfather that his second-born son was dead.

"Sakura…do you know…? I mean…do you ever think about…Uncle Kariya much?"

Sakura found it a little hard to breathe for a moment. She bit her lip, the stiffness inside her worsening, as an image of that kind, dark-haired man flashed in her mind.

"Uncle…Kariya…?"

A withered hand disappearing beneath a mass of crawling crest worms….

Once again, Sakura felt that swooping sensation in her stomach that comes just before throwing up. She didn't even realize she'd stopped, her knees shaking, until she looked up and found Shinji stopped ahead of her, staring at her with one eyebrow raised.

"Sakura?"

Something of the Shinji that would creep into her room in the wee, dark hours of the night flickered in his eyes.

Sakura's mouth went dry, and she started to panic again, as she sensed something in her mind tearing apart at the seams, even as she was already numbing herself to it all on the outside.

"Yo, Shinji!"

Sakura blinked, snapping out of it, as whatever had been stirring in Shinji's eyes disappeared and he too turned to find Shirou approaching them up the sidewalk with a wave of his hand and a bright and eager smile, his school bag slung over his shoulder.

Everything inside Sakura relaxed at the sight of him, and the darkening mood that had been settling over her and her brother fizzled out.

"Good morning, _senpai_ ," said Sakura with a bow.

"Good morning, Sakura," said Shirou, to which Sakura felt the color rise in her cheeks at his addressing her by her first name. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," said Sakura. "And you?"

"Just fine," said Shirou.

"'Just fine' he says," said Shinji with a laugh that was only just on the edge of being mocking—but Sakura was far too used to her brother's inability to refrain from inserting such a tone into his laughter, and Shirou too kind, for either of them to call him out on it.

Nonetheless, he gave Shirou a rather amiable clap on the back. "What a stand-up guy," he added, again with the same whisper of mockery. "Wouldn't you agree, Sakura?"

Sakura felt the color rise in her cheeks a second time, as embarrassed discomfort twisted inside her stomach and she looked away, braving a smile regardless. "Well, it doesn't really matter what _I_ think, _nii-san_."

While Shinji sniggered however, Shirou stared at her like he couldn't quite believe what she'd said. And then he smiled again. "What're you talking about, Sakura? _I_ like hearing what you think about stuff."

Shinji quit sniggering and glanced between his sister and his friend. And then he snorted another laugh. "That's a good one, Emiya."

Shirou's smile withdrew as he regarded Shinji sidelong with an expression of mild disapproval. "Hey, come on. I'm being completely serious."

"I know, that's what's so funny!" Shinji cracked up completely at this.

Shirou sighed and shook his head. "What am I gonna do with you, Shinji?" he asked, though clearly not really expecting an answer, as Shinji went on laughing.

But to Sakura, it was like Shirou was almost serious about it, like if it came up, he'd do whatever he could to help straighten Shinji out.

And Sakura felt a pressure lift from her that had been pressing inside of her chest as she watched Shirou walk on ahead. And then she felt it glow when he looked over his shoulder at her and smiled, calling for her to hurry up as Shinji held his sides while his laughter subsided.

* * *

"Fuji-nee? I mean—Fujimura-sensei?"

At the _dojo_ at Homurahara Academy, the rest of the Archery Club had already gathered and had on their _hakama_ and guards. Sakura, Shirou, and Shinji were the last ones to arrive, finding Fujimura-sensei overlooking the proceedings.

She turned around at the sound of Shirou's voice and gave him a tug on the ear that was clearly playful rather than a painful boxing. "Now, now, Shirou, what did we talk about?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, okay?" Shirou put up his hands in supplicative apology.

Sakura hid a demure giggle behind her hand.

Shinji openly snickered as he went to put on his gear.

"Your apology is accepted," Miss Fujimura finally said, releasing Shirou.

Shirou rubbed and tugged at his ear, massaging where it was red and throbbing. "Anyway, Fujimura-sensei, I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Miss Sakura Matou."

"I'm very pleased, sensei." Sakura bowed.

Miss Fujimura blinked, just noticing Sakura behind Shirou's shoulder. "Ah, Miss Matou! It's good to finally actually meet you." She acknowledged Sakura formally. Then she nudged Shirou playfully in the ribs. "I've heard quite a bit about you from our Shirou here."

"Hey, cut it out," Shirou muttered out of the corner of his mouth, but Sakura saw him go slightly red, and had to suppress another smile.

"So, interested in seeing what we do here in Archery Club?" Miss Fujimura asked, clapping Shirou on the back and prompting him to put on his gear.

"I suppose so," said Sakura, twisting a lock of her violet hair.

"Well, there hasn't been an observer here yet who hasn't ended up a member." Miss Fujimura nodded to the members warming up behind her, testing bowstrings, checking arrows. "Isn't that right, Mitsuzuri-san?" she called over her shoulder.

An energetic, bold, and very pretty girl with short-brown hair and eyes that were just touched with harmless mischief whipped around and gave Miss Fujimura the thumbs up. "Absolutely, Fujimura-sensei!"

"Ayako Mitsuzuri," Miss Fujimura added to Sakura. "Club captain."

As it happened, Sakura did find an enjoyable rhythm to watching the practice, particularly where Shirou was concerned. It was almost like she was seeing a side of him she didn't know was a part of him until now, though it wasn't something unwelcome. This side of him was very focused and…strong. Pure even. She was far more drawn to it than she expected, and was surprised that she was so pleasantly surprised.

Shinji wasn't bad either, though it was clear his aim was showing off—even when it was clear his skill wasn't quite up to Shirou's. And it was possible Shinji knew that, which made him want to put on a show-offy flair all the more. Some of the female members flocked to it with giggles, while some of the younger male members looked on with nervous skepticism, but there was no fear in admiring Shirou's work, even as he himself didn't appear to notice the attention he garnered.

And then Miss Fujimura, arms folded as she stood off to the side as was expected of a teacher advisor to a school-sanctioned club, said: "All right, it's time to wrap things up. School is about to start." She was checking her watch as she spoke.

Sakura waited patiently for her brother and Shirou as they and the other members of the club started packing up their gear under the direction of Captain Mitsuzuri, followed by her leading the club in thanking Miss Fujimura for giving her time as usual to advise it.

But then while everyone else filed out, Shirou offered to stay back a bit and finish with putting the _dojo_ back in order.

"Come on, Emiya…" Shinji whined.

"You guys go on ahead." Shirou waved after them, his smile once again cheerful, a contrast to the stone serious expression he'd worn while firing arrows, though not a contrast that didn't make sense, somehow.

"I'll stay and wait, _senpai_ ," Sakura offered, doing her utmost to repress the hot blush that was rising in her cheeks for the third time that day. She wanted to be able to speak more boldly and less meekly, and that was because of Shirou, really.

Miss Fujimura was already racing towards the main school, exclaiming something about having forgotten to grade a whole batch of papers she was supposed to have graded already. Captain Mitsuzuri laughed and shook her head before giving Shirou a salute over her shoulder. "Thanks a bunch, Emiya. I'll get it next time, so we're even."

Shinji followed last, giving Shirou and Sakura a pinched expression reminiscent of the reproachful glares he'd often throw Sakura's way. Then he tossed his head in a haughty manner, flipping a curl of his blue seaweed hair, and stalked off.

"Whatever," he muttered. "Later."

"It's fine, you know, you don't have to wait," said Shirou, gathering up extra bows.

"I wanted to, though." Sakura traced circles with her stocking foot on the polished wood of the _dojo_ floor.

"Well, I won't say I don't like the company," Shirou laughed, stowing the extra bows away.

"You know, Shirou…I think…I think I've decided…I might join," said Sakura, her heart hammering wildly within the cage of her ribs, as though bursting to break free. "The Archery Club, I mean."

Shirou blinked at her with his golden-brown eyes, and there was something that Sakura felt passed between them in the moment their gazes met like this. For a second, Shirou appeared unable to speak, and then he cracked a smile again, though Sakura thought it was lacking something, bright as it was. It was almost too bright.

Even so, it warmed Sakura's skin like sunshine.

"Okay. Hm. You know, I was hoping you'd say that," Shirou admitted. "Somebody's gotta keep a better eye on Shinji, after all. Mitsuzuri has her hands full with it as it is, even with me around as well."

Sakura giggled—an honest-to-God giggle—and then Shirou snorted and laughed out loud himself.

"Yeah, you're right," Sakura agreed. "He's hopeless."

"Then we're a team on this." Shirou winked and then picked up his school bag. "Shall we?"

As the two of them walked up towards the main school building, the morning bells ringing out, there was a comfortable silence between them, and Sakura's heart glowed like a firefly the entire way.

* * *

As far as technique went, Shirou unspokenly volunteered to take Sakura under his wing, even as Sakura felt her brother's eyes on them both the next time they were at morning practice in the _dojo_. Something fluttered inside Sakura like a kaleidoscope of butterflies as Shirou came around behind her—she fitted in her new _hakama_ and guards—and guided her hands on the bow and arrow she'd been given.

"It's pretty straightforward once you have the stance," said Shirou, stepping back and watching once Sakura stood strong and rim-rod-straight enough on her own. "Just aim for the target and shoot." He said this all very casually and matter-of-factly, like his words were little more than shrugs.

For someone who was so good at archery, he didn't sound very enthusiastic about it, Sakura thought as she drew back her bow after working her upper back, shoulder, and arm muscles enough to do it well enough against the tension created by the bowstring.

All right, he didn't have to gush, necessarily, but…he might've sounded more…alive.

Then again, who was _she_ to judge someone's propensity for going dead and cold about certain things?

Maybe it was this vein of thought that suddenly made it so easy for her to aim with the bow, even as she still quivered against the bowstring's tension. Then something else about her thoughts rung with her as she squinted at the target in the distance, aiming with purpose, without feeling the ache of her newly-working muscles. As Shirou had also said, something he'd picked up on was: "You can only be as good as your bow, so be sure the taughtness and grace of the string matches your own in your stance."

 _If he can't be excited about it, I'll be excited for him._

She let the arrow fly.

She didn't hit the center target, but she wasn't too far off the mark. Pretty good, for a beginner.

"Well done," said Shirou with a nod, still sounding clinical, with only the faintest undertone of pleased praise for her sake.

Then Sakura grinned at him over her shoulder, and Shirou appeared a little taken aback at such an expression on her face. It was almost devil-may-care, carefree. And indeed, Sakura felt something like a shackle had been unlatched from around her neck. She hadn't even noticed until now. There was a certain freedom in shooting an arrow, it seemed, and she realized quite happily that she could in fact enjoy archery for archery's sake after all, not just because Shirou was there (though that certainly heightened everything).

Even better was how Shirou returned her grin, seeming to warm to her enjoyment of the exercise. "Care to try again?" He handed her another arrow.

"Of course." Sakura took the arrow and strung it, this time with a shining confidence. Maybe that's what it was, being forced to puff out her chest and stand up so straight, it had the effect of the simple act of smiling, for as the simple act of smiling could do enough to improve a person's mood, the simple act of standing up a little straighter could do enough to improve a person's sense of self-assurance.

Reveling in her newfound giddiness, Sakura drew back the second arrow and let it fly.

* * *

With each passing day, Sakura looked forward more and more to each Archery Club practice that would come the following morning. She began talking a little more animatedly around Shirou, and Shinji meanwhile had redeveloped his habit of sulking in the background. She even opened up to others, like Captain Mitsuzuri, who sort of took on the role of an older sister to her as well as that of a captain.

Shinji though, at the very least, did not decidedly resume his practice of slipping into her bedroom late at night.

Sakura felt lighter than she had in what felt like ages, as free as the _sakura_ petals that alighted the breeze when they blew off in gales of pink snow during their tiny, two-week peak. Though that time of the year was still weeks away, for her the _sakura_ trees bloomed early, lush and beautiful, and smelling so very radiantly fresh and sweet.

Perhaps that was what Shinji had been biding his time for: to wait like a snake in the grass until she was at the crest of her happiness, humming one afternoon as she came home from school.

He was waiting for her in the dark foyer, rather than already gone up to his room like normal, since he always walked well ahead of Sakura and Shirou on their way home anymore.

"Hello, little sister," he said rather silkily.

The tone sent a shiver up Sakura's spine, and she paused on her way to the stairs. " _Nii-san_?"

"Did you have another nice chat with Emiya?" Shinji asked as he made a show of absently examining his fingernails.

Sakura tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear uncertainly. "Well, yes." The old meekness was coming back, creeping back up inside of her.

"He's a pretty good young man," Shinji said with exaggerated praise. "A little _too_ good, maybe, but he's definitely the real deal." His eyes swiveled in her direction, and his grin widened wickedly, tauntingly. "I wonder…how will he handle it when he finds out…how _tainted_ you are? Hmmmmm?"

Sakura dropped her school bag. It hit the ground with a _thunk_ as her hands began to shake.

"What? You think I won't tell him?"

"N-No. Why would you? What would he…th-think of you…doing that stuff in the…f-first place…?"

"Oh I don't have to say it was me, just that you're not clean." Shinji unfolded his arms and advanced on her, pressing her back up against the opposite side of the foyer—Sakura nearly tripped over herself stepping away from him in her panic. He cut off any hope of escape with both his arms on either side of her, leaning his palms against the wall. "And what's to stop _me_ from going back to it? You never minded it before, did you? You let it all happen so _easily_ , didn't you?" He pounded one fist against the wall, his voice crescendoing into a growl as he spoke.

"Stop…" Sakura pled.

Shinji scowled and then smacked her across the face. But even as she cried out, he didn't stop there, smacking her again with his other hand and then kicking her hard in the shin. The pain was so bad Sakura couldn't stay standing and collapsed to the floor, hugging the throbbing spot where Shinji's foot had connected, grinding her teeth so hard that her jaw started to hurt too.

But at last he stepped away from her. He glared down at her a moment before making a "Tch!" sound of dismissal between his teeth. "Do what you want. But you can't hide from the truth, little sister."

As he stalked away towards the stairs, Sakura remained huddled on the ground, too much of a withered husk again to even cry, her mind filling to the brim with the memory of all those crest worms sliding around all over her tiny shaking body.

Later that night, she dreamed of the crest worms, dreamed she was back in the worm pit, surrounded and closed in by so many she couldn't breathe—

Until an arrow of light shot through and dispersed them all.

And there was Shirou, with his bow and arrow, smiling for her the way he always did, smiling like the sunshine.

"Emiya-senpai!" Sakura called out, running towards him without thinking, throwing her arms around him as he caught her in the embrace he offered her, holding her in his warmth, embracing her as she hadn't been embraced since that night…that dark-haired man told her good-bye and promised her…something…she couldn't remember what, but it must've been good.

Was it that she would meet someone as kind and caring as Shirou Emiya one day?

"I won't let any more nightmares touch you, Sakura," Shirou whispered in her ear, low and gentle. "I don't care what's in your past. It's not your fault."

Only then did tears come to Sakura's eyes, as she woke up crying and beaming from ear to ear in the dark.

The memory of the dream sustained her, even as the next day came and Shirou asked Sakura concernedly about the slight limp she had to her walk, Shinji whistling nonchalantly alongside them.

"Oh, it's nothing," she dismissed, rather practicedly. "I tripped on my way downstairs yesterday. I was in too much of a hurry to be careful."

"Did you ice it?" Shirou asked, looking her over even more solicitously.

Sakura shook her head apologetically. "I guess I didn't think to. Stupid me."

"Yeah, stupid you," Shinji teased. "Ow!"

For Shirou had kicked Shinji in the back of the shin, which was fitting, karmically speaking.

"You're a jerk, you know that?" said Shirou with a rare bite to his voice.

Sakura had never seen Shirou glare before, and it was actually kind of scary. But even so, she couldn't help a secret smile to herself as the three of them continued down the walk towards school, Shinji whining about his leg the entire way while Sakura steadfastly kept her mouth shut about the pain hers was causing her.

* * *

That bubble of happiness that had been inflating anew however popped quite suddenly again when a morning came within a couple more weeks of the _sakura_ trees' annual blooming that Shirou didn't show up for school, alarming particularly since they were coming to their end-of-the-term exams, which Shinji prefaced by saying, "Emiya won't be joining us for school today, I'm afraid."

Sakura stared after her brother, feeling a twitch in the leg that he had kicked and bruised a week before. The bruise was still there, though the pain was gone. "What do you mean?"

Shinji stopped and turned toward her, his face grim. "He had a little accident, sorry to say. From what Fujimura-sensei says, he's on bed rest. Feh." He spat. "For a _sprained wrist_ , of all things."

The way his knuckles cracked when he flexed his fingers restlessly though told Sakura everything she needed to draw a conclusion, and a shard of guilt wedged inside of her heart. She could just see it…Shirou confronting Shinji in private about the new bruise on Sakura's arm (Shirou had noticed it by accident when Sakura had rolled up her sleeves before dunking her hands in a bucket of soapy water, it being her turn to help with giving the _dojo_ a scrub)…and Shinji getting a lucky swipe in and knocking Shirou down…and Shirou spraining a wrist in a haphazard effort to break his fall.

Or something like that.

Maybe that wasn't even what really happened, and Shinji had nothing to do with it.

Still, as Sakura's suddenly leaden legs carried her in the wake of her brother towards school, a resolve was stirring and hardening inside of her. One that directed her feet off the path towards school and in the direction towards Miyama Town.

And then she arrived at the lonely and grand Emiya compound. Her heart fluttered faster in her chest, but it was too late to turn back now as she marched up to the front door and rang the bell.

When Shirou answered the door with a confused, even somewhat lost expression, his wrist was indeed bound in a sling. But then his golden-brown eyes sparked with surprise to find Sakura there on his doorstep. And then he frowned, almost fretfully.

"Sakura! What…what're you doing here? You should be at school."

"But I heard about what happened," said Sakura. "I…had to come see you."

"Oh." Shirou averted his eyes then, the toes of his stocking feet curling in discomfiture. Sakura noticed because she chose then to distract herself with watching his feet as opposed to looking him in the eye. "Shinji told you…did he?"

"Yes."

"Did he…say anything else?"

"No."

"I see."

Another pause as a gentle breeze passed through, blowing the leaves of the trees surrounding the compound.

Finally, Sakura swallowed the lump forming in her throat and forced herself to look him in the eye again. Shirou seemed to be doing the same with her, and they both spoke at the same time.

"Listen, I—"

Shirou cleared his throat. "Go ahead."

"No, it's okay, you go first, _senpai_."

"No, no, it's fine. Go on. What were you…going to say, Sakura?"

He even smiled, that kind smile of his, and his voice was gentle like it had been in that dream, and Sakura couldn't help herself.

"Well, I…feel I should, do my part, _senpai_. So, now that I see you're doing all right—I mean, do you have enough to eat for today?"

Shioru blinked. Clearly this hadn't been what he'd been expecting her to say, and Sakura was rather secretly pleased at the thought. "Um…well, yeah, I've got lunch handled but…." He scratched his nose with his free hand.

Sakura beamed. "Good, then I'll be back after school to help with dinner! It's the least I can do."

"Sakura, you don't need to do that for me." Shirou waved his free hand. He meant well of course, he wasn't ungrateful. Sakura could see that. She could see that…he just didn't want to be a bother to anyone.

Which pressed her to burst out with: "But you're so _good_ , _senpai_! I…I just want to be the one to…help you out when you…need it." And then, before she could stop it, she blushed so furiously hot and red she was sure she was glowing as bright as a stop light.

Shirou stared at her, again thrown by her words. Then, when he smiled this time, it was very bittersweet to Sakura. "Sakura, I…." Yet it seemed he didn't know what else to say to dissuade her.

Sakura seized her chance. "Then it's decided. I'll help you out until you get back on your feet." She glanced at his wrist. "Metaphorically speaking, obviously." She forced a laugh through her jittering, crackling nerves.

Shirou raised an eyebrow and then sighed in defeat. "Okay, but you'll have to run it by Fuji-n—Miss Fujimura, you know, her being the house's chaperone and all." He glanced about in a half-hearted gesture towards the compound as a whole. "She isn't a fan of guests she doesn't know about…I mean…she has rules about…girls." And then his cheeks actually reddened just a little as he scratched his nose again with his free hand.

"Don't worry, I will," said Sakura, and then she actually found it in herself to reach out and touch Shirou's arm, not too familiarly, just enough to let him know that she sincerely wanted to be there for him, out of the same genuine kindness that he did for other people, like her.

Well, maybe her kindness was just a little selfish, and maybe that all went hand-in-hand with how unclean her own past was. But…something inside her told her the survival of her soul was starting to depend on how close she got to this boy. Melodramatic out-of-context, but in her own mind, it just made sense. And anyway, she sincerely wanted to help him just to help him, regardless of its presenting her with more opportunities not only to be closer to him, but also to spend some time out of her own dark house, away from Shinji, away from Grandfather brooding in his study, away from…the worms.

Then her hand betrayed her, trembling, and she started to pull away.

Only for Shirou to catch it in his and give it a squeeze. "I think you'll be set if you think you can pass her cooking test," he said, almost teasing, playful. "Think you're up for it?"

And that was it. That was all it took for Sakura to get her newfound courage back. She slid her hand out of his and pumped a fist determinedly. "I'm up for it. Just leave it to me."

Sakura couldn't believe how she had gone from feeling so morose to feeling so happy in a matter of seconds, but she didn't question the miracle of it as she returned Shirou's wave farewell on her way out through the front gate.

The moment she turned the corner and was out of sight, she let out a small cry of triumph all her very own, and started to skip all the way to school, back into that lightness of being that feeling like a _sakura_ petal brought her.


	3. The Day the Sunshine Shined Through

**Chapter Three**

 **The Day The Sunshine Shined Through**

The _sakura_ trees bloomed more beautifully than Sakura could ever remember. The world sang with the color pink, snowed it in a veritable blizzard of soft petals.

She shared this display of beauty with Shirou, and the blossoms around her felt like fireworks going off. She could almost sense how they shouted so joyously with new life as they blossomed, with their riots of different shades of pink: rose, fuchsia, punch, blush, watermelon, flamingo, rouge, salmon, coral, peach, strawberry, rosewood, lemonade, taffy, bubblegum, ballet slipper, crepe, and magenta. It exploded all over them, but quietly so, as the two of them walked together, Shirou well-off bed rest and smiling at the delicate, floating petals.

As Sakura watched him, she wondered if he was reliving a happy memory of a time he had watched the cherry blossoms bloom before. It seemed that was something everyone had in their life, in a land abundant with such a lusciously pulchritudinous flowering tree that only flowered for two weeks out of the year. Same as any given holiday.

For her part, she didn't really have anything like that. She'd been shut up in the Matou house for things like these. This was her first happy cherry blossom memory. Except for perhaps the day she first spoke to Shirou.

"It's things like this that make me feel good about my name," she admitted as they made their way down the winding path of the cherry blossom hill on their way to Homurahara.

"You don't usually?" Shirou was genuinely surprised. "Why not?"

 _Because Shinji always sneered that it was so ordinary, nothing special._

She almost said that.

"Well, it's a fairly common name," she said, trying to shrug it off.

"I think it suits you though," said Shirou.

Sakura knitted her brow. "What do you mean?"

Shirou blinked, and then she thought that there was a bit of extra color in his cheek. Or maybe it was just the warmth of spring. He blinked up at the sun again. "I dunno. It just feels right," he said.

But then he dropped his gaze to the path ahead of them, his smile a little different. Reverent, perhaps. And he softly added: "I…I actually had…the same feeling…sort of…this time you spent, just coming over and keeping me company and cooking and…ahem…everything." He made the act of clearing his throat very pronounced.

Sakura actually dared to engage in teasing. Just a little. Not too much. Just enough that it was still her same old meek self that shined through. "Oh? And what would you happen to mean by that?"

Shirou chuckled. "Ah well, you're a very sweet girl. Getting to know you a little better, I can't fathom how it is you got saddled with a brother like Shinji. I mean, don't get me wrong, there's hope for the guy, he just needs a little correction here and there. But I won't pretend he isn't rough around the edges. Guy's got a temper on him bad."

"Hm." Sakura made no comment. She didn't want to spoil these words Shirou was gifting her with by bringing her brother any more into this. Though she did like to think that what Shirou said just might be true, that with a little help, there might be hope for her brother yet. She still did pity him, after all, in her way.

Then Shirou chuckled again, only to let out a curse and ask if they could stop a moment. The fact that he had to use the hand that held his school bag—because of the injured wrist on his other hand—made the act of scratching his nose full of more steps than one would normally have to take.

"Here," Sakura offered, unable to help seizing the moment as she figured out what his intention was.

He was just about to set his bag down—rather than awkwardly trying to lift his hand while he held onto his bag instead—when Sakura stepped closer to him and reached up. With the nail of her index finger on her free hand, she reached up and gave his nose the kind of scratch she might give to the tiny chin of a kitten.

Their eyes met as she did this, and an eternity might have passed between them in the time she took to scratch his itch. But he didn't stop her, and she didn't really want to stop…that is until he said at last: "Okay…that's good. You got it. Thanks."

And he was smiling, pleasantly and gratefully after her, as she lowered her hand and turned to pressing onward down the hill. "You're welcome," she said, with a smile of her own.

For the rest of the way down the hill, they walked in silence, but it was companionable. A silence they had shared already in moments while she'd stand at the stove cooking breakfast or dinner, and he'd flick through a magazine or a _manga_ at the table, only piping up to ask, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

To which she'd always say, "Don't worry, I've got this. You just relax that wrist."

To which he'd answer, "Okay, whatever you say," as if he were on the edge of laughter, amused at the way she was so gently taking charge of him.

Maybe she was only reminding him of Miss Fujimura, to whom he looked as a big sister, but even so. It was something.

Maybe…maybe something more really would blossom from that, in the end.

* * *

"Toh—Tohaska-senpai!"

For a very long time, Sakura had gone over and over in her head what she would say if Rin Tohsaka ever approached her. She had spent so many years nursing resentment and then swallowing down into the deepest, darkest pits of herself that she was numb to it. Now she could only address the girl meekly, as some kind of lower class citizen who was unfit to look on Tohsaka directly, and should show respect by acting with utmost humility. That, combined with this feeble hope that there was a chance Rin would look at her the way she used to when they were little, the ghostly fringes of their mother and that man who's hair had turned white hovering on the edge of her memory, so that someone other herself in her own head would address that yes, they were really siblings. Sometimes, Sakura thought she might drive herself crazy with how much the world wanted to force upon her the falsehood that she and Rin were no more than unrelated school acquaintances.

Yet coolly beautiful Rin Tohsaka was approaching her as if for the first time in her life, sometime after the _sakura_ trees had done with their annual blooming. Even so, Sakura was utterly benign toward her senior.

"How…how can I help you?" she asked, clearing her throat.

Senior Tohsaka, as was her haughty persuasion, had the usual habit of looking off in a faraway direction when someone was speaking to her, and when she would speak to them, she wouldn't turn her head, only slide cool blue eyes in their direction, one hand propped on her hip while her other hand clutched her school bag.

"I was just curious...I don't see you much around the _dojo_ anymore."

"You mean…for archery?"

Tohsaka ground the toe of her school loafer into the concrete of the walk in front of the school gate. "I'm just asking out of mild interest, you understand. Think of it as doing my part as an upperclassman for once, since I'm not in any clubs or anything. Then again, maybe Mitsuzuri might have put me up to it." The corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly, as though she were actually about to smile and decided against it.

"Well…." Sakura bit the corner of her lip, clutching the handles of her schoolbag in her hands more tightly, the palms turning clammy. She tapped the toe of one foot behind her, her knee bent. "I've just been looking after one of my fellow club members, so…I'll be back more regularly once he's healed up."

Tohsaka blinked, looking genuinely surprised, but it was just for a split-second. After that, she resumed her cool and collected demeanor. "Oh…that would be…Emiya, right?" Her eyes flicked just for the briefest moment in the direction where Sakura knew Shirou had gone on ahead of her when Senior Tohsaka had summoned her.

"Emiya-senpai? Yeah, I've been…helping him out at home."

"He did all those high-jumps in middle school, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"What a crazy idiot."

Sakura made no comment at this.

"Hm. So he'll be back to it too quite soon, I assume?" Tohsaka asked. "Same as you?"

"I should expect so," Sakura suddenly lied, though she wasn't sure why. In truth, Shirou had been expressing more and more a lack of any desire to return to archery once he was recovered. He claimed he didn't think he was really going to have much time for it any more with the new term starting and all he'd been doing lately to assist his friend Issei Ryuudou with the Student Council.

"Well that's good for him," said Tohsaka. "Thanks for the update. Think that fills my karmic quota for now. I'll let Mitsuzuri know, shall I?"

She let her blue eyes pass over Sakura once, as though scrutinizing her for some reason, and something like a passing raven flitted in those eyes, like a fleeting sobriety. Imagine, the "ice queen" that was Rin Tohsaka being anything like sad.

Sakura however looked at it for a moment as though her hopes might finally be validated.

But then, unceremoniously, Tohsaka turned her back on Sakura, her long brown hair and twin tails swishing behind her. She waved a hand as she made her way towards the school, only to call back, "Let him know I wish him all the best. As a fellow classmate."

Sakura, stamping out how crestfallen she was underfoot, waved to her retreating back. "I certainly will, _senpai_!"

She lied again, and for a second she then experienced a rather pleasurably dark instance of possession as she glanced over to where Shirou was walking a little further ahead with Ryuudou, arm still bound in a sling, before she too joined the flow of students streaming into Homurahara Academy.

Yet when she glanced back at Tohsaka, watched her leave with that long red jacket she wore even in the warmth of spring, the wind making it billow like a cape, she recalled again that parting from her that felt like some strange, nightmarish dream now. A memory that often crept into her dreams along with the nightmares of the worms, and the dark-haired man who smiled at her until his hair turned white.

Something about that suddenly made her feel incredibly guilty.

* * *

"Here's some extra work from Fujimura-sensei, _senpai_." Sakura cheerfully passed over the stack of papers and workbooks she'd collected from Miss Fujimura behind Shirou's back. "I think she's being so cruel just to get your wrist to recover faster."

Shirou chuckled as he sat cross-legged at the table in the main room of the Emiya house, flicking through the paperwork with his uninjured hand, his other one still in the sling (though the doctor had said he could probably take it out in the next couple of days). He lifted a corner of the stack, along with a sticky note on top that featured a caricature of Miss Fujimura herself with cat's ears sticking out her tongue at him and a little note in hastily scribbled _hiragana_ : "Get better faster, Mr. Archer!"

Sakura smiled, catching sight of the scribble. "Can I ask what it is? I mean, it isn't as if you're out of school anymore, and you've caught up on all of your missed schoolwork from when your wrist had to be on a rest."

"Think of it as a sibling's squabble," said Shirou off-handedly.

"Oh." _A friendlier one_ , Sakura thought to herself, being that her only experience with sibling squabbles had involved bruises and smacks.

"Well, I'd better get dinner started," she said, looking at the clock and getting up from the table.

It was quiet a few moments, with only the sounds of the rice cooker pot clanging as she filled it with water before she dropped it in the cooker and scooped in the rice. After a few more moments of the sounds of the softly sifting grain, Shirou suddenly spoke up, sounding strangely serious, but also apprehensive.

"Um…Sakura?"

"Yeah?"

"I…well…you know the doctor's said I'm just about ready to take the sling off. I did tell you, right?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well…I still…haven't changed my mind…about not going back to archery. About quitting."

Sakura paused and twisted around to look at Shirou. He was watching her solicitously from where he sat at the table.

"Is that what all this from Fujimura-sensei is about?" she asked. "She knows you're thinking of quitting and she's disappointed in you for it?"

Shirou heaved a sigh, sounding rather beleaguered. "Yeah. And then…there's the…ritual we've had the past few weeks."

Sakura frowned and then turned back to scooping rice into the cooker, more hastily now. "Well…what about it? Are you saying—" Her heart beat faster, fearfully, and she swallowed, "—you don't want me to come over…anymore…when you're healed up…?" She fought tooth and nail to keep a crack out of her voice.

"I just don't want to be a burden to you," said Shirou softly.

"You're not a burden," Sakura told him at once, her voice betraying her with a hint of rawness.

She felt Shirou stiffen, ears pricking up at the tone of her voice. Quickly she finished scooping in the rice and put the rest away before snapping the lid on the cooker shut and setting the timer.

Then Shirou gave a chuckle, but it was rather sober. "You know…I had a similar conversation…with my father…when he was alive."

Sakura's eyes rounded out, and raised them to the window over the sink, where she saw a Japanese bush warbler perch on the branch of a tree and sing its lilting song. Shirou spoke very little about his father, a recluse by the name of Kiritsugu. That Shirou had been adopted by the man, had received his surname Emiya, and had been raised by him for five years before he died, was about all she knew.

She dared to peek back over her shoulder at Shirou, and saw that he had a faraway look in his gold-brown eyes she had seen reflected in her own mirror, in her own eyes, on many a morning, and she thought again of that kind dark-haired man, always reaching out a hand to her in her sleep, a man she knew deep down she knew, but could no longer remember ….

So many scattered images of a reality she felt lived deep within her, that had been locked away for some reason.

"My father…he got…so tired…in the end…but he never let anyone help him…not really." Shirou blinked rapidly, thumbing at the corner of his eyes. Then he cleared his throat and put on an air of forced cheerfulness and amusement. "I've never met any other adult like him. And I always thought, if he can go it alone, so can I."

The spring breeze picked up, catching the charms Shirou had hung up in the house, the bells that he said were used to forewarn of intruders. The sound twinkled throughout the house, like a breath, a presence passing through, one summoned by dredging up the memory of the man who was once Kiritsugu Emiya.

Sakura stared, and her eyes started to sting and well up. "Oh Shirou…."

Shirou blinked again and looked up at her, as though he just remembered she was there. "Sakura?"

"Oh!" Sakura felt the color rise in her cheeks and she turned away again, making a flustered show of tearing open the packet of tuna on the counter and sliding it onto a cutting board. "It's nothing… _senpai_ …." She sniffed. "But I…just wanted to say…I like…I like your company." Her heart started hammering harder again. "I just like being able to come over and…share dinner with you. So…there's no reason we can't keep things going like this…. You're not a burden. I mean…I…I'm happy…."

Shirou made a genuinely surprised sound in his throat. "Oh…you're happy?"

"Mm-hm."

"Oh. I see."

Sakura bit her lip, willing herself not to shake, not to contemplate the hole of darkness that had appeared before her, the abyss of loneliness that would swallow her again, fill her with emptiness as before when all of this bliss ended.

But then Shirou said, with a light laugh, "Well then. I don't want you to be unhappy, Sakura. You've done so much for me, after all."

Sakura gasped and then twisted around again, the cutting knife still in her hand. "You mean…I can keep coming over and cooking breakfast and dinner for you?"

Shirou's smile was warm, sincere. "Sure. If you want to. I'm happy if you're happy."

Sakura would have clapped her hands in excited gratitude, but for the knife. So she settled for smiling ecstatically, giving Shirou a breathless, "Oh, thank you, _senpai_!" as she clenched the handle of the knife more tightly in her hand. "Thank you."

"But I wanna do more to help with the cooking once I can," Shirou added, raising his eyebrows. "I like to do it too, you know."

Sakura giggled, feeling her blush come back but not really caring. "That's okay, I'd love to try _your_ cooking, _senpai_ ," she said. "I look forward to it." She inclined her head graciously and then went back to slicing up the tuna, the knife blade slick with the red juice, and tossing it in the now-sizzling fry pan with zealous fervor.

* * *

"So how's Emiya's arm?" Shinji asked, though the way he asked suggested he couldn't really care less.

Sakura shut the door to the Matou residence behind her with a defiant snap reflecting the quickness of her sudden bout of anger. "Just fine," she informed him stiffly. She made her way towards the stairs, but Shinji, having been waiting for her, leaning against the wall in the foyer, made a beeline for her and blocked her path.

"That's all you have to say? Surely you've got more for me, considering how much time you spend there." He reached up and traced the curve of her cheek with his finger, as though he were some clawed beast savoring the moment before he tore into her flesh.

She smacked his hand away with the back of hers. "Stop it," she growled, and pushed past him.

"Oooh, catty today, aren't we?" Shinji followed her up the stairs like a shadow. "But don't forget, I can still let slip what a slut you really are, so don't get any bright ideas. Once that wrist's healed, Grandfather feels it would behoove you to return to eating dinner at home here. With us. And quite frankly, I do too. We understand each other, yes?"

Something dark, like a striking viper, rose up inside Sakura so quickly and so violently it was like a demon that had invaded her body and took possession of it out of nowhere. Yet she knew somehow that it had arisen organically from within the very depth of her being.

She rounded on Shinji and elbowed him hard in the side of his face, sending him staggering back down the stairs. It was only by the grace of his catching himself on the banister that he didn't tumble down the steps outright. Once he recovered, the glare he gave her was downright feral, and he gnashed his teeth at her with the appropriate ferocity.

"You bitch," he snarled.

Sakura raised her hand again, and a desire curled inside her like black smoke, and she had a mind that this time, when she struck him, she would—

Yet something of that desire must have reflected in her eyes, because Shinji's snarl disappeared as he suddenly became wary. Then he narrowed his eyes again in contempt for his caution and his weakness, but erred on the side of caution nonetheless. He spat and turned away, retreating back downstairs, reassuming a cool air as he stuffed his hands back in his pockets. He let out another expletive under his breath, tossing it her way over his shoulder, as he disappeared into the door leading off the foyer into the house's main living room.

Then Sakura's knees buckled beneath her, and out of nowhere she felt drained, trembling, her schoolbag falling from her slackened grip. She sank down on the stairs, staring at her hands, as it hit her that had she had something—like that knife she'd used to cut up the tuna and vegetables for her and Shirou and Miss Fujimura's dinner earlier that night—yes…she probably would've just cut Shinji's throat open right then…and spilled his blood all over the polished marble before he could've blinked.

 _I can't think thoughts like that_ , she told herself, willing herself not to let her panic rise, to bury it down, down, down. _I just can't. What would Emiya-_ senpai _think?_

* * *

The next morning, Sakura picked at her bowl of rice with her chopsticks, propping up a grain here and there, and trying hard not to imagine them suddenly moving, suddenly swarming and writhing around like the crest worms—

Something heaved powerfully inside her stomach, like what little she'd eaten was about to punch its way back out of her. She clapped a hand over her mouth and held back that urge to vomit.

"Sakura?"

Sakura looked up and found Shirou and Miss Fujimura peering at her concernedly. No doubt they'd noticed the shadows under her eyes from how little and how awfully she'd slept the night before.

"What's wrong, Sakura-chan?" Miss Fujimura asked, and it was a testament to how much she cared about people like Sakura as well as Shioru that she had taken time to pause in scarfing down her _tamagoyaki_.

Sakura let her violet eyes drop to her bowl of rice, just for a moment, as she thought: _What's wrong? What's wrong is…this was a mistake…because I think…I might be a bad girl…._

Then she looked up and reassumed her old habit of forcing a smile. "It's nothing. I'm fine. I had trouble sleeping, that's all."

"Got exams on your mind?" Miss Fujimura asked.

"Something like that," Sakura lied. Again.

Miss Fujimura waved her chopsticks dismissively. "Don't worry, you're a smart girl who gets excellent grades. You'll do fine. I don't think high school exams'll be the end-all-be-all for you." And with that, she proceeded to dig back into her food.

Shirou however, continued to frown skeptically.

"Are you sure it's just exams?" he asked her in an undertone as she set to washing the dishes after Miss Fujimura had sped off for school on her scooter. "It isn't…." He hesitated, and then pressed onward. "It isn't Shinji, is it?" he asked, and there was a steely note to his tone underneath all the discreetness of his approach.

"No." Sakura tucked a lock of violet hair behind her ear. "No, it's not my brother. He…it's just hard to understand him. He gets…frustrated about things and it comes out…maybe not in the best way. But he can't help it."

Shirou made something like a faint growling sound under his breath, and Sakura shivered inwardly, being that it was one of those moments where he seemed to tend towards hostility. Yet he remained otherwise restrained, and she began to wonder if that hadn't been through years of disciplining himself to hold it back and be more tactful. Or maybe he'd made a mistake somewhere years back when he'd been much smaller, one that had involved more outrageous actions. Schoolyard fights maybe. They happened often enough between small boys in primary school. Some grew out of it. Some didn't.

His brooding thoughts meanwhile seemed to have disappeared to some remote place in his mind, and Sakura thought again about that dark desire that had started to unfold inside her, just for a moment, the evening before, to simply take Shinji by the throat and throttle the life out of him. That wasn't her. But to think that something like that lived inside of her, interacting with Shirou this way, speaking of things that caused ill-temper, she feared that might agitate it such that she would have no choice but to act on it.

 _Am I…am I really…am I a…bad girl…?_

The bowl in her hand slipped from her grasp, in between the flowing suds of dish soap and the sponge. It crashed into the rest of the dishes soaking in the sink with a splash and clatter, causing her to jump in alarm.

"Oh! Sorry," she apologized quickly, at least relieved that she hadn't broken anything when she took up the bowl again and inspected it.

But it seemed to bring Shirou out of his reverie too, and he looked contrite as he watched her flusteredly try to master herself.

"Sakura…."

With a resolve born of all the feelings that had been culminating within for the boy beside her, Sakura forced that smile again, but maybe, because it was for him, it was easier to give it some degree of sincerity. "Please, don't worry about me, _senpai_. I don't want you getting into trouble over little old me."

Shirou stared at her a moment, and then smiled, though perhaps just a little sadly. "Hey now: don't go turning into me."

To which Sakura felt she had to be a bit sterner with him. "I mean it, Shirou," she told him, raising a pointed eyebrow. "No more sprained wrists."

"'No more sprained wrists,' huh?" Shirou chuckled then, more warmly. "Okay then. I'll keep that promise. For you."

And despite everything, the knot of worry and doubt getting tangled up in Sakura's heart eased and relaxed, finally letting her be happy again in his presence. She smiled back down at the sudsy dishwater, pleased at the simple rightness that had been restored to the world by those simple words from him.

* * *

When Sakura returned to the Matou residence later that night as usual, Shinji stood in the door, bracing his arm against the edge of its frame, blocking her entry into the house. The glare he gave her was nothing short of murderous.

But it was the kind of murderous of a cornered, wounded beast.

"Grandfather would like to see you," he said, with a taunting edge to his voice, his lips curling into something savage.

And it was in that moment that Sakura realized…the only place inside her that she could draw strength and courage from was the same place inside her where that shadow had emerged. That being the case, she knew she had to draw on it sparingly. In fact, she should avoid drawing on it at all, unless the situation became so dire that she had no choice but to make use of it.

At the door to her grandfather's study, she knocked, and the reedy, elderly voice of that same man called to her from within.

"Enter."

Sakura stepped inside and closed the door behind her with a click. Her grandfather, dressed in the same black that he had worn since before she could remember, was sat as his desk, fiddling with some kind of glittering brass object that contained a sphere of crystal. He was peering into this sphere with one beady dark eye, the other squeezed shut. The smile he wore was wolfish, but that was no surprise to Sakura. To her, Grandfather Zouken always looked hungry, though he would always eat very little, if at all. Really, it was something more than mere food that Zouken Matou was hungry for.

She cleared her throat to get his attention, saying, "You wanted to see me, Grandfather?"

Zouken blinked and looked up, as if he'd come from somewhere faraway. His dark eyes came to rest on Sakura with an insect-like indifference. As a result, the smile on his face did nothing to improve this. If anything, it only served to make him more sinister, appear less human.

Compared to him though, it was somehow different between her and her brother, because she felt pity for him. It was the kind of thing that persuaded her never to speak of what her brother Shinji had done to her in the night so many countless times in the past. Whatever Shinji did to her, she could never bring herself to cross that line and betray him, and would go on defending him, even to someone as truly kind and honest as Shirou Emiya.

Zouken's lips curled back over his teeth and he set down his brass instrument. "Ah, Sakura." He folded his hands and rested his chin on them. "I see you grace us with your presence. How gracious of you."

"Grandfather." Sakura inclined her head.

Zouken considered her with the flatness of a spider, even as he smiled. Sakura had never felt one way or the other about her grandfather. In his presence, she felt more like the kind of person who simply acted on a sense of duty, not anything as impassioned as love or hate. Just obligation. Her childhood trials in the worm pit below their very feet was proof of that.

Then he said, "You know, I've been neglectful in mentioning this, my dear, but you have grown and matured quite well thus far. I look forward to how you continue to grow from this point onward. Particularly since you appear to have taken an interest in young Emiya Shirou."

Sakura frowned. "What do you mean?"

Zouken chuckled low in his old throat. "You seem surprised that I'm aware of such things. Don't be. In fact, you should keep this in mind. But don't misunderstand: I'm not saying I disapprove of how much time you're spending at Emiya's house. In fact, I encourage it."

For the first time in his presence, Sakura felt the compulsion to actually smile, to hear something like this coming from the man who had somehow given her so much and yet so very little.

"Really? You don't disapprove, Grandfather?"

"Not at all. It's good you're making such a valuable friend."

Sakura bit her lip, hesitating at the way he said the word, "valuable".

Should she be suspicious of what she wanted? Her grandfather never did anything like _indulge_ his grandchildren by any means, the way some grandparents did for their grandchildren out of the sweetness that had grown out of their old age. Of course, there was nothing sweet about her grandfather either. This man who had been aloof her whole life, who had only shown her mercy for her performing well as his grandchild from since she could remember.

She couldn't believe he meant any ill-will towards Shirou though, or to do her any harm.

Then she felt something within her relax, feeling relieved that she didn't have to worry about something like her Grandfather forbidding her to see Shirou anymore. She'd half-believed he just might decide that, given what Shinji had been telling her.

Zouken blinked, but was otherwise extremely still. "Now, you have some schoolwork to be getting along with, don't you?"

"Yes, Grandfather." Sakura gave an appreciative bow before taking her leave. "Thank you again. And good night."

"Yes," said Zouken very dismissively. "Good night, Sakura."

Sakura didn't fully relax until she'd left her grandfather's study, but she easily brushed aside the fact how much he'd tried to show an interest in her studies with that dismissal when she knew full well that he was faking, along with that "good night".

Even so, she wouldn't let the shadow of despair fall on her, not now that she knew that she could still keep Shirou in her life for certain.

* * *

"So, he's not coming back then?" Miss Fujimura didn't bother hiding how forlorn she was about it as she sat with her already half-eaten _bento_ box beside her, a folder full of ungraded tests in her lap. She was really burning the candle at both ends, starting on grading them now on Saturday while supervising her club when she'd need them done by Monday.

Sakura set about fitting her chest guard on in preparation to practice her archery with the other club members. "I'm sorry, Fujimura-sensei."

Miss Fujimura's attention perked up in a very catlike way. And then she smiled, genuinely surprised. "What do you have to be sorry for? It's not your fault."

"Isn't it?" Sakura asked seriously. "Didn't…didn't Emiya-senpai get hurt…because of me? Because he'd been…?"

Miss Fujimura waved a dismissive hand. "Don't be silly, Sakura-chan. Knowing Shirou and that brother of yours, it was bound to happen sooner or later that the two of them would get into some kind of scuffle."

"So it _was_ Shinji…who hurt him."

"I'd like to think it was an accident. No offense, but young Matou doesn't seem like the fistfight type. He seems more like the punching bag type, but the kind of punching bag that loathes that he's a punching bag. Why do you think he picks on people weaker than himself?"

 _Does that make me so weak?_ Sakura wondered miserably. But out loud she asked, "Do you think then…that Emiya-senpai…might've _let_ Shinji hurt him?"

"Knowing that kid, I'm sure he would, if it meant he could spare someone trouble by doing it," Miss Fujimura theorized, and reached over to twist open the cap on her thermos of tea and take a sip. After she smacked her lips, she gave Sakura another kind, very sisterly smile. "But that's what so great about him, even if it isn't the smartest thing to do. Anyway, that's what you like about him, isn't it? That he's such a good guy, even when other guys aren't?"

"Eh?" Sakura tilted her head to one side.

Miss Fujimura raised an eyebrow that was just a little too sly and knowing.

Suddenly Sakura felt the color rise in her cheeks and she looked away. "Um…."

"Oh, come on now," said Miss Fujimura encouragingly. "It's time to work off some of that frustration. Get out there and don't miss the target even once." Then she winked and took another sip of tea.

Sakura considered her a moment and then smiled, glad she had someone like Miss Fujimura in her life too. That Shirou had someone like Miss Fujimura.

"Okay, Fujimura-sensei."

Then she joined the other club members on the wood floor of the _dojo_ and set her bow and arrow.

Something in her felt very strong, and pure too—nothing like that shadow. So she stood tall as she drew back the string on her bow and then fired.

And hit the target straight and true.

* * *

The dinner Shirou was making was simmering on the stove, setting the peaceful tone with a quiet and soft hiss of the steam.

Shirou flexed his fingers and wrist experimentally, having removed the sling and bandages at last.

He and Sakura were sitting at the table at the Emiya house after school. For the moment they were alone, but Miss Fujimura would be around soon for that dinner. There was something special about it really, the first meal he'd be making now that his wrist was well enough again.

Sakura watched him solicitously, wishing for a moment that she could do something as familiar as take that hand in both of hers as an expression of what she felt for him.

For now though, she knew that what Shirou felt for her in return was a platonic affection, but at the same time, that he genuinely cared about her well-being. She would cherish that, like that ray of light in those dark years she couldn't remember all that well, when that dark-haired man who's hair had turned white had always been there to give her a smile…at least until he was suddenly gone.

That didn't matter now though, did it? Not with Shirou in her life. Even this way, things would be better from now on.

"It looks good, _senpai_ ," she said happily.

Shirou gave her an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Sakura." And then he seemed to turn just a little sheepish. "You know, I don't think I'd have been able to bear it as well, without you helping out. I'm really glad for you."

Sakura blinked and then felt the color rush to her face, just a little. "Of course. I'm happy to do it."

"Hm." Shirou glanced outside and sighed. "It'll be nice having you here when winter comes, you know. What with how early it gets dark then. It always kind of depresses me, actually."

Sakura tilted her head to one side. "Really?"

"Yeah. That and…whenever it snows."

"Oh? How come?"

"Well…." Shirou traced circles on the polished wood of the table. "My…father…I remember…he always got…really subdued whenever it snowed. Not that he wasn't well…subdued to begin with…but…when it snowed…he'd stand at the window and watch it for hours…and he wouldn't say a word…. For some reason, it made me sad watching him like that. Maybe it was because…I just got this feeling that the snow was…making _him_ sad."

Now Sakura really wanted to reach out a hand to him. But she kept her distance and gave him his space. She kept her hands in her lap and just went on giving Shirou her smile. If that alone was enough for him, it would be enough for her.

"We'll make new winter memories then," she said. "Happy ones. I think snow is so pretty, after all. Like the way it glitters, how pure white it is…." Echoes of Shinji making his threats to tell Shirou about the unmentionable things he had done to her sounded in her head, but she crushed them down with an effort.

"Hm." Shirou looked at her again, and the sadness that had flickered across his face disappeared. "Yeah. Me too."

And then… _he_ was the one who reached out.

He gently dropped his hand on Sakura's head, giving it a fond pat.

Sakura sucked in her breath: she felt like a flower on that cherry blossom tree, finally able to let her petals open all the way and fully bask in the sunshine.

"This'll be a good winter. I can feel it." Shirou's grin widened. "Thank you again, Sakura."

Sakura let a sincere giggle, bubbling out of her so pleasantly that for the first time she knew what bliss sounded like. "Ah, well. You're welcome, _senpai_."

Then Shirou chuckled too, and Sakura thought he had never seemed so dazzling in her eyes.

"I didn't know you could laugh like that," he said. "But just the same, I'm glad you're happy."

She cherished that feeling, that warmth of Shirou's hand on her head, reaching down into her heart. It was a light she could carry with her, and she was no longer afraid of any darkness that might creep in…because even if it did, she knew this light would get her through it.

THE END


End file.
